Following the release of her debut EP, the teen artist discusses romanticising life, inquisitive DMs and blue eyeshadow.
It’s snowing when I speak to Nadia Loren, not enough to settle, but enough to make it impossible not to mention. The ‘Sad But True’ singer and I talk about the way the flakes catch on your eyelashes and how the pavements never quite turn white. It feels fitting. Loren describes her music as existing in the “in-between”, and I learn she’s just as comfortable there emotionally, too.
There’s a quiet renaissance in pop right now, led by women who are building worlds to belong in. Loren’s own world is vivid, but soft at the edges: blue eyeshadow and ’60s-era lashes, red nails gripping the back of a motorbike, wedding dresses worn with an unsubtle irony.
Her debut EP Kiss and Drive is a characteristic love letter to liminal space; not quite falling in love, not quite moving on, not quite knowing where you’re headed. At eighteen, with a fiercely loyal community built both online and off, Nadia isn’t chasing resolution so much as atmosphere.
When we connect, Loren has just come in from the cold. In both appearance and spirit, the artist is as fresh as the EP we’re about to discuss.












